God's Toy
by FluffyBiscuits
Summary: After rescuing Mojo from Him’s horrifying attack, Blossom is charged with the difficult task of bringing Mojo back into society. One month of rehabilitation will test an unlikely pair to the breaking point. Rape, violence, and abuse are mentioned.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own the Power Puff Girls. Small children would not be able to watch it if I did.

Chapter 1

Blood.

She could smell it everywhere. On her, on the crimson soaked floor around her, leaking out of the demon's body not far from her… it was even on the clothes she was wearing.

Something metal and cold hit her face, causing her to wince and bring pain to her senses. Was a knife just thrown at her? She couldn't see why it was aimed at her…

It was strange, even though she was the rescuer; the victim was resisting any help.

Lying injured and bloody at her feet was Mojo Jojo. As much as she hated Mojo's snarling teeth, it was the frightened eyes that she hated the most. It was a twisted mockery of Mojo's usual self. The uncontrollable despair on Mojo's face was a side she had never seen of him before.

"Get away demon," Mojo growled, "don't touch me."

"Mojo, it's me," Blossom whispered as she cautiously inched towards the chimpanzee.

Her inching movements were rewarded with a shirking manner from the violated chimpanzee.

Clearly, talking any logic into Mojo was out of the question.

The world around Blossom grew blurry as she ran behind Mojo. Within seconds, he was knocked unconscious from a blow to the head. Grimacing, Blossom swung Mojo over her shoulder and contemplated what to do next.

The first idea that came to her was to take Mojo to a hospital. Blossom shuddered, thinking about how no doctor or nurse could handle his rages if provoked. And Mojo had been pushed far enough.

Blossom squeezed her eyes shut. The events that had led to the stabbed demon before her were giving her a headache.

Feeling bored, Blossom had decided to check a book out from the Townsville Library. Mojo's sky observatory happened to be on the way. In moments, she heard screaming and moans through the observatory's metal exterior when flying overhead.

Against her better nature, she activated her supervision to see what the commotion was about. The sight she saw sickened her.

Mojo was pinned to the ground by Him's spindly arms. His manhood was being thrust into Mojo over and over while Mojo clawed violently, screaming and howling for Him to stop.

Undeterred, Him jeered catcalls, and then proceeded to resume his activity. Blossom's vision turned red and she found herself staring at a huge hole in Mojo's dome top and Him's bruised body when her vision started to clear again.

Apparently, her intervention just scared Mojo more because he launched himself at her with a knife that he had acquired somewhere.

Nimbly, she dodged out of the way of his attempted assault. The knife greeted Him's chest instead of her. This didn't seem to bother Mojo since he let himself go into a stabbing frenzy of Him's body.

Patiently, Blossom waited until he slowed down and then decided to approach him. That was when he threw the knife at her face.

The memories faded as Blossom willed to the present. A hospital would not be a good place to take Mojo so she racked her brains as to where else she could take him. An answer came to her after a few moments.

Shifting her cargo to a more comfortable position on her shoulder, she took flight to the sky. Blossom was not worried about Him since his body could self heal itself. Mojo was her top priority to getting to a refugee where he could recuperate.

End of Chapter 1

Author's Note: Reviews are appreciated. Flames are acceptable as long as they have constructive criticism.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own the Power Puff Girls. I wish I did though.

Chapter 2

Blossom flew at a rapid pace with Mojo in tow. She landed at Ms. Bellum's condominium home and walked up to the front door.

Cradling Mojo in one arm, she rang the door bell with her free hand.

There were a few moments of waiting-abruptly changed when Ms. Bellum flung open the door. Her demeanor seemed to be strained with agitated emotions as if she were in a hurry. The pencil skirt and red blouse she had on suggested she was preparing to go to work.

Blossom's bloody ensemble with the slumped chimpanzee over her made those plans fly out the window.

"Hello Blossom," Ms. Bellum said calmly.

Blossom muttered a hello and entered the house, ignoring Ms. Bellum's questioning look. Usually, she would be very courteous in talking with Ms. Bellum, but she needed to clean the blood off her and Mojo.

"Where is the bathroom?" she asked, turning to Ms. Bellum.

"It's upstairs," Ms. Bellum said, hoping to get an explanation from Blossom as to what was going on.

The question was barley on her lips before Blossom said, "I'll explain what is going on after I get Mojo and I cleaned up,"

"Okay," Ms. Bellum nodded, knowing Blossom would keep her word.

Having placated Ms. Bellum, Blossom headed up the stairs cradling Mojo against her chest.

Blossom entered the bathing room and eyed the huge tub and faucets wearily, only to wonder how she had gotten into this crazy situation. She looked down at Mojo and smiled. Mojo looked almost peaceful in the nook of her arm, a contrast to what he would have been awake.

Now to get him cleaned up might as well do it before he woke up. Blossom set Mojo on the toilet seat and removed all his bloodied clothes save his underwear but had to be careful because Mojo was still too unconscious to do anything himself, including sitting up straight.

Blossom held Mojo once again and moved over to the tub. Shampoo, soap bars, and towels were all present. The tub was filled with water when Blossom turned the knob. She turned the knob off when the water reached mid level.

Then, Blossom placed Mojo in the tub. She finally got in after taking off her clothes. The water reached Mojo's mid section and was level to her arms. Mojo was propped against Blossom's knee while she cleaned him up.

Mojo began stirring, awake from feeling the water's warm sensation. His eyes flickered open, then, closed again. He was out cold and sleeping to Blossom's relief. She finished getting herself clean, seized Mojo and stood up.

She unplugged the drain, and as the water began receding, she placed Mojo on the tile floor. A set of clothes were found folded neatly when Blossom pushed the door ajar to make a request for something to wear.

Thanking Ms. Bellum mentally, Blossom donned on the pink dress that was identical to her usual costume. The other set of clothes looked like Mojo's usual villain getup complete with the cape. Wondering where Ms. Bellum got the clothes, Blossom decided to ask when done dressing Mojo.

The bloody clothes that Bloosm and Mojo previously wore were discarded to the trashcan as she left the bathroom. Mojo was being carried again by Blossom noted by Ms. Bellum, who was standing in the hallway.

"Can I put him somewhere?" Blossom asked, gesturing towards the slumbering Mojo.

"He can stay here," Ms. Bellum said, opening her guestroom door. After lying Mojo in the bed and covering him up, Blossom turned to Ms. Bellum and said, "We can talk now,"

"Come downstairs," Ms. Bellum turned and made her way to the living room and sat on the couch. Blossom followed suit and sat at the opposite end.

"The situation started when I decided to go the library," Blossom began.

Today was going to be a long day.

End of Chapter 2

Author's Note: I'm glad I was able to get this chapter done. Exams are a bitch right now so it will be a little while before the next chapter comes up. Thank you Dracori for pointing out some things I can clear up. Reviews are appreciated and flames are accepted as long as they have constructive criticism.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: The Powerpuff Girls belong to Craig McCracken. I do not own any of the characters.

Chapter 3

Ms. Bellum was silent as Blossom told her the bizarre events that had happened.

"What do you want to do?" Ms. Bellum enquired finally, letting Blossom catch her breath.

"Stay here with Mojo for a month to help him get better," Blossom said nervously, knowing Ms. Bellum would not like her plan. She focused on a piece of carpet lint, licking her lips.

"Why not hand him over to the Townsville police?" Ms. Bellum suggested. "They could send him somewhere to get help."

"They could also lock him up in a padded cell if they think getting him help is too troublesome," Blossom replied crisply, frowning slightly, thinking of how most of Townsville's public would prefer to see Mojo locked up than receive psychiatric care.

"True," Ms. Bellum nodded slowly, recalling that the police department did not have much love for Mojo given his villainous activity.

"May I keep Mojo here?" Blossom asked worryingly, hoping that Ms. Bellum would comply with her request.

"Yes," Ms. Bellum said, flashing Blossom a smile.

Blossom relaxed instantly. The next question Ms. Bellum posed brought back Blossom's stress tenfold.

"What are you going to tell the Professor?"

Twenty minutes later, Blossom was steadily flying toward her house. The rays of sunlight hitting her body offered her little comfort. Inwardly, she was mulling over the Professor's anger she was about to possibly invoke.

Grimacing slightly, Blossom landed in front of the two story- Utonium residence. She entered the house to find her sisters sprawled in various activities of play in the den. Bubbles was busily scribbling drawings on a pad with her crayons. Buttercup's gaze was glued to the TV screen while her hands were idly clicking a game controller.

Neither girl looked up when Blossom said hello. Oh well. Better be done with her mission and out. Her sister's rudeness could be chastised another day.

Pushing aside her uneasiness, Blossom entered the lab. Chemical smells invaded her senses as her eyes danced over various glass beakers, estimating what the Professor had done to produce failed results. Finding a cure for the common cold on purpose was out of the Professor's league, she thought wryly. Accidents brought out his best work.

"Professor?" Blossom called out, raising her voice to a loud tone.

The Professor looked up from his work. "Anything wrong?" he asked, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"I'm going to be staying at Ms. Bellum's house for a month."

There. She said it.

"Why would you do that?" the Professor asked irritably, dropping the utensils he had been holding.

Blossom repeated what she had told Ms. Bellum.

"What about school?" asked the Professor, somewhat shaken with his imagination getting the better of him of the rape Blossom had just mentioned.

"I can be homeschooled by Ms. Bellum," Blossom said.

"I'm still not sure about this," the Professor said, hesitating.

"Professor, Mojo could hurt civilians if he's left to his own devices to get better or he may just be locked up," Blossom stated, a high tremor visible in her voice.

The Professor rose from his chair and walked over to Blossom, who could tell he looked defeated. He pulled her to his side and looked her in the eye.

"One month. Come home after that."

"Thank you Professor," Blossom said, wrapping her arms around his waist.

Now Bubbles and Buttercup needed to be filled in on the plan.

_At Ms. Bellum's house_….

Mojo awoke to find he was in a bed. A knock on the door brought him out of surveying his surroundings.

"Who is it?" he shouted as the door opened. His expression glowered when he saw that it was Ms. Bellum coming into the room, but it only took a minute before his expression switched into rage. "Get out of here Him!"

"I'm not Him," Ms. Bellum said, placing her hands on her hips.

"You will not fool Mojo JoJo! Mojo rumbled as he pulled a pillow off the bed, "taking a weak human's form won't help you!"

A vein in 's forehead twitched.

Did he just say she was weak? "I have to disagree," Ms. Bellum said coolly, her eyes lit with rising anger.

"Is that so?" Mojo asked, launching forward for a pillow attack. The PowerPuff Girls had pummeled Mojo with pillows before. Pillows should have been able to work to his advantage on his enemy if pillows worked for the Powerpuff Girls.

Unfortunately, Mojo's new enemy was a black belt in karate. Ms. Bellum's fist connected with Mojo's jaw when he came towards her airborne.

Mojo hit the ground with a loud thud. He scuttled away, placing his hands on his bruised jaw line.

"Are you done with your pointless endeavor?" Ms. Bellum snapped, rubbing her throbbing fist. Hitting a monkey's jaw was hard on her hand.

"I will get out of here," Mojo growled, shifting to a sitting position.

Ms. Bellum pinched the bridge of her nose. Mojo could try people's patience really well.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Mojo shot Ms. Bellum a wary look. Apparently, he could see some of the suppressed anger in her features.

"Did you kill Blossom?" he asked casually, attempting to get the woman he thought to be a demon focused onto a new topic.

Ms. Bellum gave Mojo a confused stare, then just sighed and walked over to the doorway to give her back a leaning support. How could she convince Mojo she was not Him? Why had he thought that anyway?

"Blossom is coming back so just sit tight till she gets here," Ms. Bellum said quietly, then added quickly: Don't try anything or I'll have to restrain you."

As if a few words could keep Mojo obedient. Still, his jaw really hurt after that punch. He sat submissively but the defiant glint in his eyes was unmistakable.

_At the Utonium household…_

Buttercup scrambled to her feet, her game forgotten. "Who are you and what did you do with my sister?"

"You get to be leader Buttercup," Blossom repeated.

"But why?" Bubbles asked, wondering if the world had turned upside down. The Blossom she knew would never give Buttercup leadership rank.

That's a good question Bubbles," Buttercup said, eyeing Blossom suspiciously. Something was up. Blossom always adamantly refused her request to be in charge.

"I'm going on an important mission," Blossom said.

"She said I as in just her," Buttercup said, rolling her eyes. With effort, Bubbles held back a sob. "You don't have to be so mean."

"Girls, I'll be back in a month," Blossom said, taking the opportunity to leave the fray unseen. Bubbles nor Buttercup spared a glance as they were caught up in their argument. Normally, Blossom would tell Buttercup to lay off Bubbles but Bubbles needed to fight her own battles sometimes.

Shaking her head, Blossom flew off to see how her charge and Ms. Bellum were doing.

Seeing Blossom return, Mojo tensed immediately.

"Him, I see you have been hiring demon help," Mojo hissed, visibly upset.

Blossom just looked at Ms. Bellum.

"He thinks I'm Him and that you are a demon," Ms. Bellum explained, running a hand through her hair exhausted.

Blossom nodded and turned her attention to Mojo. His back was to her with his head bowed low.

"Red!" was heard in his unintelligible mutterings.

A light bulb went off in Blossom's head.

"It's the color red," Blossom exclaimed causing Ms. Bellum to jump.

"Red is what?" Ms. Bellum asked, thinking Blossom had lost it.

"Our red hair reminds Mojo of Him," Blossom said more to herself than to Ms. Bellum.

"Okay," Ms. Bellum said slowly.

"We need to wear wigs that make our hair a different color," Blossom told Ms. Bellum, which prompted her to go fetch blond wigs in her bedroom closet left over from her modeling days.

Mojo didn't notice the two redheads don on blond wigs. He was engaged in his ramblings about the color red.

"I'm going to go fix dinner," Ms. Bellum said. "You can tell me what happened at your house later."

"Sure," Blossom said, watching Ms. Bellum exit the room.

As soon as Ms. Bellum left, Blossom approached Mojo.

Feeling a tap on his shoulder, Mojo stiffened. Very slowly, he turned to find himself staring at a smiling face with pink eyes.

"Boo," the face boomed.

Mojo fell back against the wall startled. Grunting, he assessed the face to belong to a grinning Blossom.

"Did I really scare you that bad? Blossom asked bemused.

"No Powerpuff brat," Mojo lied, trying to save face. He had a tough reputation to uphold and he be damned if a little girl was going to ruin it.

Blossom gave Mojo a thoughtful stare. He recognized her which was a good sign. What would happen if she took off the wig?

Mojo's scowl turned into a snarl when Blossom let some red hair strands spill from the wig cap.

"Demon," Mojo yelled, struggling to get to a fighting stance.

Quickly, Blossom tucked the stray hair strands back under the wig cap. Almost instantly, Mojo relaxed asking Blossom if she had seen a red monster a few seconds ago.

Blossom didn't answer. This is going to be tough Blossom reflected, gazing out the window. Kama knew she needed all the assistance she could obtain to try to help Mojo herself. No one else was certainly going to stick their neck out for him.

Author's Note: Happy New Year! I hope everyone had a good holiday. School is about to take over my life again so it may be a few months before another chapter comes out. Lord, American Government sucks. Reviews are welcome and flames are acceptable as long as they have constructive criticism.


	4. Chapter 4

See the previous chapters for disclaimer.

Chapter Four

"Tell me why I'm here," Mojo asked bitterly, drumming his fingers on Ms. Bellum's mahogany table.

"To keep an eye on you," Blossom said, with a trace of irritation in her voice. "Try being quite."

"Not until I have finished what I, MojoJoJo started to say," Mojo said, glaring at Blossom.

"Who cares what Mojo has to say?" Blossom asked brightly.

"I don't," Ms. Bellum said, spearing a carrot on the end of her fork.

"What a surprise," Mojo said, glowering at Ms. Bellum.

Feigning deafness, Ms. Bellum resumed eating her carrot salad. She knew Mojo was trying to provoke her; he had doing through dinner. No doubt he was hoping for an excuse to be banished from the table.

"Majority rules," Blossom quipped.

"Did the Professor tell you anything else," Ms. Bellum asked, interrupting the argument.

"No, I don't think so," Blossom said thoughtfully.

Mojo slammed both hands down onto the table and stretched over it until he was an arm's length from Blossom's face, causing both females to flinch. His lips were curled back to reveal his teeth, adequately intimidating on their own, and coupled with the deadly look in his eyes…it was no wonder Blossom took a step away from the table.

"Ignore me will you?" he hissed. "And you made me come here for your stupid dinner." All this was said so low as to be a mutter, a voice on a low octave, but the words were clear enough to all.

For a second, Blossom thought Mojo was going to attack her, and lifted her arms to shield herself. "Mojo stop," she gasped, staring into the chimpanzee's eyes.

Ms. Bellum recovering from her shock practically leapt between Blossom and Mojo.

"How about sitting back down?" Ms. Bellum said narrowing her eyes.

At the sound of Ms. Bellum's voice, Mojo blinked. Without meeting anyone's gaze, he rose and strode swiftly out of the room, presumably aware of what Blossom could do to him for his defiance.

Ms. Bellum heaved a sigh of relief, and behind her Blossom did the same. "Are you alright?" Ms. Bellum asked, looking Blossom over for any damaged composure.

"I'm fine," Blossom said, lost in her own thoughts. Satisfied, Ms. Bellum resumed her previous seating and began eating.

_Mojo's eyes_, Blossom thought, frowning. _That looks in his eyes_. _Where have I seen it before?_ She mulled over the idea for only a few moments before the cold realization hit her, and when it did she felt a numbing dread fill her stomach.

Mojo's eyes before he had broken his gaze had been red.

A clouded red the Townsville population had under Him's mind control.

"May I be excused?" Blossom asked, concealing with difficulty the rush of panic she felt building up.

Receiving a curt nod from Ms. Bellum, Blossom raced out of the room.

With no one in sight, Ms. Bellum pulled the blond cap off her head.

The hair she had pinned up came cascading down in curls. And she clicked her tongue disapprovingly at the two untouched plates heaped with carrot salad. An ugly possibility loomed that the next few dinners could be unpleasant and Ms. Bellum wondered if she was up for the challenges ahead.

Mojo let himself into his unofficial bedroom. The room, he vaguely noticed, was concealed in the dark. The voice in his head was more of a pressing matter.

"Are you not glad to get away from those two female creatures?" the high pitched voice inquired.

"Who are you? Identify yourself at once!" Mojo demanded.

"Is that anyway to treat a friend?" The voice sounded hurt.

"Friend?" Mojo asked, the merest trace of confusion in his voice.

"A friend that can end your pain," the voice coaxed.

A tiny alarm bell went off in the corner of Mojo's brain. He ignored it. Who could argue with a persuasive speaker like that? Agreeing with mysterious voices was not what Mojo usually did but it felt right to him. Besides, the voice seemed somewhat familiar to him.

"Who are you talking to?" asked another voice from behind Mojo.

Mojo turned sharply. Blossom was propped alone nearby, leaning against a wall, looking visibly vexed. Her arms folded, she seemed to have been watching Mojo conversing with himself.

"I, seeing as I Mojo JoJo was the only one here until you came here," Mojo lied defiantly.

"So you say," Blossom said, not believing Mojo at all.

"I will bid you goodnight so that you will go away and not intrude on me," Mojo said hotly.

"Will do," Blossom said, with a neutral look at Mojo, "you need your sleep,"

"No argument?" Mojo scowled, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

"Nope," Blossom said, and before Mojo could stop her, she added, "Your eyes turned red at the dinner table."

"Red," Mojo murmured, digesting this information as Blossom floated out of his room.

"That is strange," Mojo thought, as he got quietly into his blanketed bed some minutes later, his hat and cape now hanging in the closet, he thought he'd like to ask the voice what was wrong with him before asking Blossom for advice. Not realizing how backwards his logic patterns were, Mojo drifted off to sleep.

Blossom sat watching an hour glass while Mojo slumbered outside his occupied bedroom door. Her blond wig lay abandoned on the carpet. Blossom's plan was her main focus at the moment. The first step of her plan to help Mojo was going to involve her falling asleep. Then, she would invade his mind.

_Hell could break loose, _Blossom thought as she watched the sand fall through the glass. Finally, the repetitive sand motion lulled Blossom to her dreams. The dreams would turn into nightmares as Blossom would shortly learn.

Author's note: This chapter was a little shorter than I'd like it to be. Spell check does not catch as many of my errors as I'd like. I'll update as soon as I can but school is my life right now.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Craig McCracken is richer than I am. I don't own his girls.

Chapter Five

_Inside Mojo's mind…_

Ocean water hit Blossom's face while paddling treacherous currents. For reasons unknown, she could not summon the ability to fly.

A tropical island appeared in the distance. Considering this, Blossom swam towards the island. Oddly, no other land formations seemed to be around. Blossom knew something was amiss but didn't have time to dwell on anomalies.

Blossom washed up unto a mound of sand face first. She inhaled sand, and then spat it out. The nasty tasted in her mouth lessened considerably.

Wiping the sand from her front, Blossom surveyed her surroundings. The sound of cawing ominous crows carried to Blossom on the breeze, and she turned. The crows were strange…Ah. Their black feathers were coated in flies. Crimson orbs bored into her, accusing her of unknown crimes, as she gazed at the crows.

Land was not much welcoming either.

Sun rays shone upon the jungle which encompassed the whole island. Brown and dull plants wilted the trodden ground, under the darkest canopy Blossom had ever seen. Fruit bats screeched and called to each other, flying over the lifeless plants and brushwork, and the haunting sound, streaming through a thin strain of communication from the bats themselves dampened Blossom's spirits.

In hindsight, stepping into a bat infested jungle was suicide. Possibility increased when shadows were hiding any dangerous living inhabitants from view.

On the other hand, just to add to the cumbersome situation, Mojo needed to be found so Blossom could help him. The plan had been to invade Mojo's mind when he was asleep.

First order of business was to locate Mojo. Second order was to weed out Him who was trying to control Mojo's mind. Once these two goals were accomplished, Blossom could get out of Mojo's mind. Tentatively, she took a step into the jungle that ranked of bat feces.

The sun shone prettily upon the sand where white seagulls hopped next to foaming ocean waves in aqua colors and butterflies took flight. Mojo sat on a smooth gray rock, watching the sand get muddier and muddier, as the descent of foaming waves echoed to him on a light breeze. A red man with pointed ears and bright eyes sat beside him, one arm draped around over Mojo's shoulder, and seemed to be taken by the scene before them, too.

Mojo couldn't remember how he had gotten here, but it was so peaceful, so relaxing, he didn't want to consider it too much. His companion was mostly silent, but on occasion made observations with a toothed smile, such as "Isn't this a magical place?" and "One could stay here forever," making Mojo nod in agreement.

Still, Mojo knew something wasn't right. The scene was too perfect, the seagulls too friendly, to be real. A cloud passed over the sun with that thought, and Mojo shivered. Everything was thrown into shadow.

The dying sound of seagull movement lingered for a moment, then silenced, and a frowning gesture from the red man caught Mojo's eye. The butterflies had vanished.

He turned to the red man beside him, to speak out, and the man was looking at him, his demonic pupils almost engulfing the whole of his eyes. "Don't you want to stay in this wonderful place?" he pouted.

"Yes," He couldn't look away from those tempting eyes. He didn't want to.

"Cast off your doubt," The red man smiled. "Stay with me."

"Yes," Mojo said and focused his will on the cloud until it slid past, uncovering the sun and bringing back the seagulls, the butterflies. The happiness. The doubt passed from his mind.

The red man leaned against Mojo's shoulder, eyes half closed, watching the scene, and Mojo relaxed again. _There is no need to doubt him,_ he thought. _I'm with a friend._

In the jungle droppings were already starting to increase and Blossom waked on holding her breath. No living creatures save bats came her way. Murky fog greeted her instead.

She left the spacious repelling bat jungle and came into a clearing even more perturbing than what she had encountered so far.

On a rock sat Mojo, next to Him…whose presence made Blossom shudder in fear. They both looked, gazing at the white hopping seagulls and the multi colored butterflies.

Blossom headed for the rock, her walking strides closing up the distance. As she neared her destination, she caught sight of the seagulls. What she thought were seagulls, hopping and chirping in among the waves and the sand and the butterflies were clearly crows. Their black feathers fell in pieces. Hollow eyes looked out, skeletons becoming noticeable, as she approached.

At the same time she recognized the butterflies for what they were, the sand she strode through was revealed as scorched and hard to rocks in the stifling heat of the sun. The water, grey and tainted with sewage, was still, with no breeze to make ripples, and the sun was bloody red.

But Mojo, she could tell, saw none of this. His smile was fixed, his eyes curiously blank and still. He wore villan attire, like Him in his signature hooker garb though neither outfit was proper beach wear.

"Mojo!" she called.

No response. _Oh, you won't ignore me._

"Mojo!" she shouted this time. "Mojo Jojo!"

The chimpanzee turned. His eyes widened a fraction. "Blossom?"

Him put a claw on Mojo's arm. Mojo twitched, but did not pull away.

"Get away from Him Mojo."

Him's eyes flashed dangerously before returning back to normal, and he hissed something incomprehensible. Mojo's expression hardened.

"He won't end your pain," Blossom said quickly, "but he will increase it. He is not your friend."

Mojo shook his head. The sun glinted on his fur, interestingly casting a ray of gold on his hat.

Bright white eyes were narrowed, suspicious as they regarded her.

"Would a friend violate you?" Blossom took another step forward. "He hurt you. Doesn't that bother you?"

"I just met him," Mojo said. "He hasn't hurt me. He likes me-"

"He raped you, Mojo!" Another step. "And his name is Him. He likes you in a sick way. But, he does not care your well being. He is controlling you." The last was a grasp at straws; she knew to appeal to the chimp's independent streak. But if it was the only way his resistance would awaken…

Mojo's face lit up with apprehension and his eyes which had been hypnotized, regained their usual spark. "No one controls me," he thundered.

He looked at the red man who had his claw uncomfortably close to his hand.

With an immense effort he yanked his hand out of the red man's grasp. "Don't touch me," he snarled at the red man, who seemed nauseatingly familiar.

"You didn't mind a few seconds ago," the red man purred his voice inviting and sensual, insinuating.

Mojo swallowed. "I…Confused, Mojo put his fingers to his temple. "I have seen you somewhere before."

The sky darkened noticeably, the storm clouds collecting. Mojo couldn't remember the man. He didn't like not remembering.

"Who is he?" Mojo demanded, swinging around and glaring at Blossom who had been watching the exchange between demon and chimp uneasily.

Blossom spoke in a forlorn way. "Look around you Mojo. Try to remember."

It was the sadness that made Mojo really look. Mojo never heard that woeful tone from Blossom before, not once. He turned to the beach, squinting at what should have been a scene of innocence and warmth and happiness. But, nothing was the way it had been moments ago.

Skeletons black feathers and crimson eyes. Cawing instead of chirping. A spasm of cold dread rolled over Mojo from the sight of the crows. Horse flies roamed the crow's feathers, buzzing on the pallid sand. No multi colored butterflies were to be found. Foaming grey water splayed the beach line.

Mojo stumbled back, away from the nightmarish scene. Further from…Him who jumped and grabbed for Mojo. Mojo swatted his attempts, revolted. Bile rose in his throat and threatened to choke him. His hands went to his throat and he almost howled when strong arms hugged him close.

"Remember Mojo," Blossom said, pressing her forehead against his brow. "Its hard, but you need to remember."

A reassuring sense of safety flowed through Mojo with the warmth that continued to seep into him as Blossom hugged him. Him glared at Mojo, and glared at Blossom, and the hate he saw in Him's eyes made Mojo shudder.

He did remember those hateful eyes, and Him's laugh, and trying to repel Him, and his unwelcoming advances…And then he remembered…No!

"Get out of my mind!" Mojo roared at Him. Fury blinded his vision and light exploded everywhere, brighter than the sun and ten times hotter than his skin. Pain seared through him, radiating from his body and a rapid wind whipped up like a tornado. The wind scoured the dreamscape from his mind: beach, rocks, Him, all gone.

Empty. Everything was gone except for Blossom still holding unto him.

Hot tears sprang to his eyes. Burying his face in Blossom's chest, the evil mastermind sobbed in shame.

"I'm so sorry," Blossom whispered, tightening the hug.

"How do we get out of here?" Mojo asked, his voice muffled against Blossom's clothing fabric.

"I'm not sure," Blossom said. "I assumed you would know since we are in your mind."

Mojo lifted his head. "Would I be asking if I knew?" he spat, his face still puffy from crying.

"No," Blossom said, her mind harping on why she just couldn't make a flying exit.

"I would prefer you didn't since you would leave me behind," Mojo said, unhappy that Blossom had stopped hugging him.

"So you don't trust me," Blossom murmured.

"I have never trusted anyone," Mojo declared.

"That's why I can't use my powers here," Blossom said. "You don't trust me to use them."

Comprehension dawned on Mojo. "You can't use them because we are in my mind," he said sharply.

Blossom nodded; pleased he had caught on quickly.

"What does that have to do with us getting out of here?"

Or maybe he was as thick as a brick.

"I could fly us out of here if you let me," Blossom stated, trying to hide her irritation.

"Fat chance I'll let that happen." Mojo snorted.

"Believe me I won't leave you behind," Blossom pleaded.

Mojo was hesitant before replying. Blossom wasn't lying. Lying was not in her nature.

"Fine," he mumbled, his energy all spent. To hell with getting his way. He just wanted out of here.

Happily, Blossom secured a disgruntled Mojo against her chest. The duo floated up in the air.

Beyond the black void a white hole shone, alerting Blossom to the exit.

"Look!" Blossom said excitingly. Sniffles met her ears.

Worried, Blossom looked down to see Mojo had his face pressed against her front in broken agony.

"We will be out," Blossom said soothingly, patting her cargo on the way to the exit.

Whoosh!

_Back in the real world…_

Reality altered. Blossom was on the floor next to Mojo. Groaning, she sat up trying to clear her mind. Mojo came to in a similar fashion.

"How are you feeling?" Blossom asked, running a hand through her bright red hair.

"Could be better," Mojo moaned, craning his neck to stretch. Blossom noted he didn't berserk at the sight of her hair. Thank Kami she wouldn't have to wear a wig anymore.

"Do you want me to get you anything?" Blossom offered.

Green fingers grabbed her wrist. "Don't leave me," Mojo whimpered, afraid of being left alone. Dragging Mojo closer, Blossom rested her chin on Mojo's night cap. "I'm not going anywhere," she murmured, her voice soft, "I'll stay right here."

One by one, the tensed muscles in Mojo's frame slackened, and Mojo settled against Blossom, eyes closing with a heavy sigh. For a long time Blossom simply stared at Mojo's sleeping features, her mind working with the weight of a thousand thoughts.

Blossom suspected Him was having to regroup due to his own violent expulsion from Mojo's mind. Later, she would pay Him a little visit to give him a warning.

For the time being, however, Blossom offered what comfort she could, and let her arch enemy sleep in her lap.

Author's note: It turns out I like to review other people's stories than update my own stuff. Another update will come in awhile. Flames are welcome as long as they have constructive criticism. There are grammar issues and I don't think I keep people in character very well. I still love this story enough to finish it even if I don't get many reviews.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own the Powerpuff Girls. Season six would have taken a very different direction if I had.

Chapter Six

Mojo awoke to find Blossom nestled up against him. Her arms were wrapped around his midsection.

Mojo's first instinct was to shove Blossom away. Then, he noticed he and Blossom were lying in his bed with turned sheets. Blossom's hair was splayed against the pillow, her sleeping face content. The pink laced nightgown she was wearing was hiked up to her knees.

Unbidden, last night's events came floating back to him. Mojo groaned aloud. Oh heavens, he had acted so pathetic. Never did he think he would be so weak in front of his enemies. _I'll never live this down,_ he lamented, attempting to wiggle out of Blossom's reach.

Try as he might, Blossom was not letting go of him. Gritting his teeth, Mojo let out a growl in frustration.

It wasn't that he had a problem with Blossom touching him. At the Powerpuff slumber party, he had welcomed Blossom and her two sisters's emitting body warmth next to him. Many a night, Mojo slept alone in his observatory which often got cold. He had learned to appreciate the comfort his heater offered. Even with the heater though, he would get slightly chilly.

Mojo's frusteration was stemming due to his inability to move around. Blossom's hold was preventing him from moving. With tremendous effort, Mojo pushed Blossom off of him. The push rolled her off the bed's edge, resulting in her hitting the floor.

Groggily, Blossom opened her eyes. Confusion flooded her brain as to how she woke up on the floor. Looking up, she saw Mojo peering at her over a pillow. "How did I end up on the floor?" she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "I pushed you," Mojo stated, averting his eyes to all corners of the room except Blossom. Better to tell the truth seeing how Blossom could see through his lies.

"And you did this why?" Blossom asked, annoyance coloring her voice. "You were holding me too tight," Mojo answered, jumping to the floor. "You couldn't just wake me up and ask me to let go of you?" Blossom asked, crossing her arms defiantly.

Hearing this, Mojo stopped his search for his clothes. Indeed, Blossom's suggestion would have been a better alternative to what he had done. "Mojo is not all there when he wakes up," Mojo said apologetically, locating his cape on a closet hanger.

Blossom nodded knowing the explanation was the closest apology bit she would get. "I don't remember putting us in a bed," Blossom said, wondering how she had gotten there.

"I put you there," a cool female voice said. Mojo and Blossom turned their heads to face the speaker. Ms. Bellum was standing at the foot of the bed in a pink fuzzy bath robe. Her left hand held a coffee mug. "There are separate beds you could have put Blossom and Mojo in," Mojo said, raising an eye ridge.

"You were latched unto Blossom so strongly that I couldn't separate you two," Ms. Bellum replied dryly. All Mojo could supply in response was an indignant stutter.

Taking advantage of Mojo's stutter, Blossom took the opportunity to jump in. "Walk with me," Blossom said, offering Ms. Bellum her arm. "Gladly," Ms. Bellum said, taking Blossom's extended arm. "What are you two plotting?" Mojo asked, giving the two females wary looks. "Really, Mojo, what have we ever done to deserve such suspicion?" Blossom teased. "Girl talk," Ms. Bellum said, walking out of the room, Blossom at her side. Silently, Mojo vowed one day to obtain a microphone to record the two troublesome redhead's conversations.

"Mojo doesn't freak out about my hair," Ms. Bellum said, pouring herself some coffee in the kitchen. Thank kami she wouldn't have to wear a wig anymore. "I think he's over that," Blossom said sinking into a chair. "Care to explain why you and Mojo were having a meltdown in your sleep?" Ms. Bellum said, setting her mug on the counter top.

As Blossom related last night's events to Ms. Bellum, she propped herself to a straighter sitting position. "So Him invaded Mojo's mind and you rescued him," Ms. Bellum said, trying to make sense of what happened. "That's the gist of it," Blossom said, exhaling feeling she had undergone the whole ordeal again.

"What do you plan to do now?" Ms. Bellum inquired, turning off the coffee maker. "Confront Him," Blossom declared, her face darkening.

Ms. Bellum felt a shudder of fear run down her spine. The temperature in the kitchen had nothing to do with her discomfort. "Just don't die," Ms. Bellum advised, putting her cup in the sink. The advice Ms. Bellum handed out to the Powerpuff girls came with a policy: take it or leave it. More often then not, the girls followed her sought advice. _I won't die_," Blossom determinedly thought, her eyes blazing an inner fire few could miss.

Skipping most of her morning hygiene ritual, Blossom's purposeful manner did not go unnoticed by Mojo Jojo. Blossom was putting her hair in a heart shaped clip when Mojo poked his head out of the shower. "Going somewhere?" he asked, water sliding down his brain.

"Out," Blossom said, giving herself a quick look in the bathroom mirror. "Where?" Mojo pressed, having an idea to where she might be headed. "I'll explain later," Blossom answered impudently, shutting the door on Mojo's face. Curling his lip, Mojo seethed in fury. Stubborn Blossom might be but she could not give him the slip so easily.

Yanking a towel off a rack, Mojo tied the towel around his waist. Throwing open the door, he hurried after Blossom's trailing pink streak. A light breeze greeted him through an open window, curtains thrown back. Shielding his eyes against the sun, Mojo could make out a pink speck in the blue skies.

Grudgingly, Mojo contended that Blossom could be a fast flier. "Curses," Mojo muttered, shaking off excess water. Clearly, Blossom hadn't wanted him to come along out of concern for his safety. _Mojo Jojo won't let you kill yourself brat, _Mojo thought, clenching his fists until blood seeped out of his fists. Pain that Him gave Blossom would be returned tenfold. It was a promise made in blood and trickling water which Mojo intended to keep.

Author's note: Happy Halloween! This chapter wasn't as long as the last chapter. Some chapters may be longer than others to give readers a heads up. Flames are welcome as long as they have constructive criticism.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own the PowerPuff Girls.

Chapter Seven

Dawn was up and drying the green lawns of Townsville suburbs. It appealingly promised the Townsville dwellers the start of a fine day. Everyone who wasn't Blossom was going to have a fine day. The sun was mocking her.

The diner Blossom was flying to was small and run of the mill, a restaurant of unpretentious design. The grass crunched underneath Blossom's feet as she landed outside the diner's entrance. A woman came stomping up to the concrete sidewalk alone seemingly displeased. Her dress was buttoned up the front, an apron tied around her waist line. Her breasts curvature could be outlined through the translucent material as well as her brown nipples. On her head sat a white paper cap. When she saw Blossom, she fumed, "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same, Sedusa," Blossom returned with cold courtesy. "I'm here to speak to Him."

"Is that so? You will have to come back when the place is open."

"I'll wait. You never answered my question."

"I decided to turn over a new leaf after you PowerPuff girls foiled my revenge attempt, Sedusa gave a shake of her ample hips. "I'm in waitressing now."

_Yes, _Blossom thought, _a waitress that is eye candy for the male customers. _Forcing a smile, she congratulated Sedusa.

The praise mollified Sedusa. "I'm sure I can get you inside," Sedusa said, inclining her bald head towards the metal doors.

"That won't be necessary," said a high pitched voice.

The metal doors swung open. Rolls of mist greeted the morning air as Him appeared in the entrance. What he had been doing inside Blossom could not imagine but there was something impressive about the sight of him framed in the doorway against an oddly misty font.

"Hello," Blossom said, giving Him a frosty stare. She needed to be on her guard.

"Would you like to come inside?" Him asked pleasantly. "I'm sure you are very hungry."

Blossom's stomach rumbled loudly. "Food would be welcome," she said, schooling her face into a neutral expression.

"Go set up the table," Him commanded Sedusa, who had started to light a cigarette for herself.

"With pleasure boss," Sedusa smirked, closing the lighter and pocketing her cigarette. On her way inside she batted her eyelashes at Him. "We can finish what we started later," she purred.

Him was standing stock-still, immune to Sedusa's charms. "Yes, we can finish going over your work hours later," Him said, waving her off.

Blossom coughed, trying not to picture the sexual overtures Sedusa made to her employer and co-workers on a daily basis.

"Harlot," Him said haughtily. "Well, Blossom," he continued as though there had been no interruption, "I'll lead you to the table."

"Why thank you," Blossom simpered, "The Professor speaks highly of your flapjacks." If Him was playing a game then she would participate until she was really alone with him.

"Really," Him said doggedly, determined to keep the upper hand of the situation. "he is always welcome back."

Blossom itched to slap his elven, goatee face. _He will never want to set foot in here,_ she thought, _He fears you. _"The Professor preferred the flapjacks at the other diner," she reminded him. "He didn't have to pay full price for them."

The smile slipped from Him's face. "My flapjacks have gotten better," he said in a sulky tone like a child denied a prize for being second best.

Smugly, Blossom made use of her time to momentarily analyze the table Sedusa had set up. A superb sight met her eyes.

A high table had a checkered cloth draped over all four corners. Two ceramic plates littered with hot piping biscuits were on either side of the table. Forks and knives had been placed left and right of either plate. The usual condiments salt and pepper were lined around a glass vase. A single red rose was thriving in the vase.

"First customers here get the best," Sedusa said, wiping her hands against her apron.

Before Blossom could compliment Sedusa's handiwork, Him interjected to ask Sedusa if she would like to take an early break.

"Hell, yes" Sedusa exclaimed, relishing the unexpected freedom she had been given. Winking mischievously, Sedusa left the demon and the redhead alone.

The weight of Blossom's cheerful façade had grown irksome. Anger flittered across Blossom's face watching Him sit languidly at the high table.

"There is a child's booster seat over there," Him said, pointing towards a stack of plastic booster seats next to a juke box. He helped himself to a biscuit while Blossom got one of the booster seats.

Blossom reached the table with the booster seat. She pointedly ignored Him as she positioned the booster seat on the adult sized chair. The corners of Him's mouth twitched. "Want help?" he asked, taking a bite of the biscuit.

"No," Blossom said, hoisting herself onto the booster seat. Sitting on Him's eye level was a major improvement to being shorter than Him.

Eagerly, Blossom reached for a biscuit but then stopped. What if Him had poisoned the food?

Him seemed to be reading her thoughts because he gave a small chuckle. "The biscuits are safe," he assured Blossom, spreading jelly unto the food in question.

His words did little to comfort Blossom. "Wait here," she told Him, flying outside before he could utter a word.

She walked over to where a pigeon was feeding on earthworms. The pigeon's black polished eyes looked up at Blossom. The eyes did not blink. It seemed as if the bird was about to speak but it did not. The worm dangled from its beak.

Lightly, softly Blossom tickled the bird's feathers. The bird stayed still enjoying the contact. Sunlight skipped off the glossing of green and blue around the pigeon's neck. Blossom extended a hand to the bird. The bird hopped into her palm.

When Blossom returned inside, she found Him still at the table. "What is that for?" Him asked, emitting puzzlement at the pigeon Blossom was carrying.

"You will see," Blossom replied, lowering the pigeon unto the table. The pigeon walked across the table in the fashion of an entrepreneur who owned the joint. Near the plate's edge, the pigeon pecked a crumb.

Blossom watched with baited breath to see the pigeon's reaction. Nothing happened. The bird continued to consume crumbs.

Relieved, Blossom brought the pigeon back outside. The pigeon took flight in the blue sky. Resuming her seat, Blossom started eating her fill of biscuit. Him waited until she slowed down before he spoke.

"How is Mojo?" Him asked gravely. Such a wave of despondency came over Blossom that she was no longer able to eat.

"Horrible, since you gave him STDs," Blossom hissed, feeling white hot anger lick her insides.

Him said nothing and Blossom could see that she had wounded him deeply. She scowled down at the table, saying "You raped his body, mind, and act like you are actually sorry about it."

"I didn't give him STDs," Him said, twirling the rose by the stem.

"Don't give me that nonsense," Blossom barked, "You have fucked millions of souls over the years."

"No, Mojo is my first," Him confessed, a faintly visible blush spreading to his cheeks.

At long last Blossom believed Him. Seeing the vulnerable display of emotions rendered her speechless. It wasn't everyday a rapist sat down to breakfast with her or poured out feelings.

Ideally, Mojo didn't seem to be at the top of Him's interests from Blossom's standpoint. "Why Mojo of all people?" Blossom asked in a small voice. You could have had anyone you wanted."

"Do you know how old I am?" Him asked, clawing the tip of a rose petal. His eyes remained on the rose.

"One hundred," Blossom guessed, wondering where Him was going with this.

"Two thousand," Him answered, " And there have only been four people whose minds I cannot read in two thousand years."

"Mojo, my sisters, and I" Blossom said, pressing her lips in a grimace.

"Yes, cleaver girl," Him said, pleased Blossom had figured out his objectives.

"He fascinates you," Blossom moaned, repressing an urge to purge her insides.

Of the four of them Him stood up to Mojo the most. Mojo was never afraid to provoke Him's anger. Although Him and Mojo were villains, the demon and chimp did get into arguments. Of course Mojo would fascinate Him. Mojo resisted Him more than any over individual he had ever met.

"You offered yourself to Mojo didn't you? Blossom asked, swinging her legs in anticipation of Him's reply.

Him's Adam apple bobbed up and down as he nodded yes.

"He turned you down," Blossom said, fiddling with a fork.

Her statement was rewarded with another jerky nod. Blossom was finally able to piece together what happened. Him hadn't handled the rejection well from the male he thought would return his affections. Patience ran out after waiting two thousand years. Volatile behavior followed leading to the rape she witnessed.

"I have another," Him said, interrupting Blossom's thoughts.

"What?" Blossom asked, becoming aware Him had move to the long counter top.

"Mr. Quackers is still my toy even if Mojo never will be," Him said, pulling a rubber duck from a drawer.

Blossom watched, sickened, as Him stroked the duck's head. She heard Him call the duck God but couldn't make out anything else he was saying.

"I'm going to leave," Blossom announced, wanting to leave. She floated out of the eating establishment, her heart pounding painfully against her ribs.

"Mojo isn't your toy," Him whispered to the duck, "As there is a child who stands in your way." The toy duck said nothing.

An insane smile lit Him's features and his head drooped unto Mr. Quackers just as Sedusa came in to start her shift.

Authors note: I saw someone question how Mojo could get cold living on an active volcano. This assumption may be flawed but the only time I remember Mojo's volcano being active was in the PowerPuff Girls movie. The volcano seemed dead in the cartoon episodes except for the episode Mojo traveled back in time to when the Professor was a little kid. I wrote the chapter thinking the volcano Mojo lives on is inactive most of the time.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own the PowerPuff Girls. I do love the show though.

Chapter Eight

"All the world's a stage and all the men and women merely players," William Shakespeare, a notoriously famous playwright, once wrote in _As You Like It_. What William Shakespeare forgot was the audience who were the chief critics of the players on stage. The audience was ignored who had better ideas than the players of how solve to the scripted crisis on stage.

Mojo one of the said critic fraction, was irritated by Ms. Bellum a player letting a five year old sign her own death warrant. "You just let her take off," Mojo said, chocking down a shout. "Yes," Ms. Bellum said, preoccupied with the cup she was scrubbing out. _And the award for worst babysitter goes to Ms. Bellum. _Getting the explanation of what Blossom did left Mojo tense. _I once held the title for worst babysitter._ At babysitting,Mojo merely tried to force the Powerpuff girls to help him take over the world. He had not let one of the girls self destruct themselves as Ms. Bellum just did.

Well, the time had come for the title to go to someone else anyway. "Did you try to talk her out of her decision?" Mojo asked his eyes boring into the back of Ms. Bellum's robe. "No, she would not have listened," Ms. Bellum said, feeling Mojo's penetrating gaze. "A little girl dying doesn't bother you," Mojo said dubiously. Last, he knew, Ms. Bellum and Blossom were on friendly terms. Did something change?

Ms. Bellum stopped scrubbing at length. Very slowly, she turned to face Mojo. The water was overflowing in the sink but Ms. Bellum didn't seem to care. "I'm scrubbing to help myself think," Ms. Bellum snapped at him. "I don't have super powers so I couldn't stop her."

Mojo refrained from speaking to Ms. Bellum. Ms. Bellum lifted up her soapy hands to reveal pruned wrinkles. Wordlessly, Mojo handed Ms. Bellum a paper towel. In turn, Ms. Bellum accepted the towel to wipe her fingers. "We are going to rescue her," Ms. Bellum announced, breathing with excitement. "Mojo is not," Mojo drawled bravado arrogance.

Mojo was almost at the kitchen door when Ms. Bellum blurted out, "She saved your life." _What a fool to think I care. _"She and her sisters have saved my life before," Mojo said, unimpressed by Ms. Bellum's stab at guilt tripping him. "You need a better reason than that to save her," Ms. Bellum said, tightening her robe belt. "Very good," Mojo applauded, clapping his hands mockingly.

The sarcasm riled Ms. Bellum. The laminated floor rushed up to kiss Mojo. Perception showed the pristine kitchen. Having his face smashed against the floor; Mojo was forced to admire the kitchen décor at a new angle. "How about I'll call Bubbles and Buttercup if you don't help me?" Ms. Bellum asked, pressing her foot against Mojo's metal hat. "Fine," Mojo shouted in anguish. "Let me up." The screws in the hat were scrapping his brain tissue. And the release gave Mojo sweet pressure relief.

Ms. Bellum extended a hand to Mojo for assistance. Compliantly, Mojo accepted her aid getting to his feet. "We will rescue as soon as I get ready," Ms. Bellum informed Mojo making long legged strides to her dressing room. Mojo obliged Ms. Bellum standing aside to make a large berth to maneuver to the kitchen exit. He didn't need more pain immersed into his brain.

Mojo went into Ms. Bellum's garage. On the walls, were tools and an electric lawnmower hanging up. There was also a tool bench. The bench had been covered up by two by four boards to prevent anyone from sitting on it. Mojo killed time hammering nails into the boards and waiting, and counting, until he heard the turn of a door knob.

Ms. Bellum opened the door to discover Mojo in possession of a hammer. Her black slacks, white pressed shirt, and brown loafers complimented her natural beauty. Ms. Bellum's red flaming hair, creamy skin, and dark lashes seemed even more spectacular in comparison to her work apparel. Her mouth turned hard.

"Stop playing," she told Mojo. Peeved, Mojo put the hammer down. "Do we leave?" Mojo asked his voice impatient. "Not yet," Ms. Bellum replied, getting a lock box off a shelf. Inside the box, lay a nine millimeter pistol. Opening the lid, the gun shone due to being well polished. As she loaded bullets into the gun's magazine, she glimpsed Mojo looking longingly at her firearm.

"You do not touch this," Ms. Bellum said sharply, pulling half of the pistol back so she could shoot easier. "Why-pray tell?" Mojo asked, playing innocent. "You won't obey the four basic rules of gun safety," Ms. Bellum accused him. A frown crossed his face. There was something to be said for that statement.

Several times Mojo looked at the four NRA (National Rifle Association) rules: Treat all guns as if they are loaded, never let the muzzle of a gun point at anything you do not want to destroy or kill, keep your finger straight and off the trigger, and be absolutely sureof your target, andwhat is behind it. The rules were in a guidebook Mojo had flipped through for an interesting read. Never did he put rules into practice while firing a laser gun.

"That could change," Mojo said placidly. Ms. Bellum sighed heavily, placed her gun in her waist holster, and shook her head. "Get in the car," she ordered, producing jingling keys from her pant pockets. Her fingers flipping the light switch, a black Mercedes vehicle materialized out of thin air.

Startled, Mojo stared at the motor vehicle mouth agape. _How could I have missed something so huge? _Mojo thought in wonder. The posh cushioning spoke volumes about the car. Excited, Mojo clambered into the front passenger seat, forgetting etiquette rules for getting into a car. Ms. Bellum buckled into the driver's seat. She checked her rear view mirrors and glared upon seeing Mojo place his feet on the dashboard. His seat was reclined to the lowest setting in a relaxed position.

Ms. Bellum scowled down at him, saying, "I wouldn't get so relaxed if I were you." Mojo rolled over to the other side ignoring her. Fine, the chimp could be impudent if he wanted to be. Ms. Bellum was going to take him for a little joy ride.

Author's Note: The next update will be someday or some year. Doesn't that feel encouraging? The school year is upon me so you know how that goes. Flames are accepted. They need constructive criticism not a stream of profanity.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own the PowerPuff Girls. Craig McCracken owns the cartoon.

Chapter Nine

Mojo turned the knob up and down on Ms. Bellum's eight speaker audio system. His eyes raked in the dash camera, monitoring blind spots. The cup holder held a mug with old coffee stains. The floor mats had plastic straws and a few paper wrappers sticking to them.

Ms. Bellum used hand over hand steering to back out of the driveway. Her fingers tapped the memory feature on the steering wheel. The car ebbed into cruise control. Ms. Bellum was glad Mojo decided to sit up so she could get his assistance. "Mojo?" Ms. Bellum inquired, breaking the chimp's immersion with the AM/FM audio system.

"Ms. Bellum rang?" Mojo taunted, leering at Ms. Bellum with his teeth. "I need you to tell me where Him's lair is," Ms. Bellum replied, refusing to be gibed. The sneer abruptly left Mojo's face. Perspiration built up around his collar line. Sweat trickled down his green face.

Ms. Bellum noticed that Mojo's hands were shaking. _He's scared, _she thought, watching him warily. "Why would the mayor's assistant want to know?" Mojo asked, playing for time. The last thing Ms. Bellum needed was for Mojo to come unglued.

Desperate to make Mojo calm, Ms. Bellum came to a rolling stop. She reached out and gently grasped his shoulders. "I want to know because that's where Blossom might be," she said. "I-Mojo JoJo will not go there," Mojo said nervously, leaning back against the car seat. Could she somehow disabuse him? "I know that's the last place you want to go," she said, trying to be reasonable.

"Yet, you still want to go there," Mojo said, cutting off Ms. Bellum's tirade. "Him might be hurting Blossom right now," Ms. Bellum said. Mojo tensed. An image of Him standing triumphantly over Blossom's corpse came to mind. _Him might go after Mojo_, Mojo thought anxiously.

"Mojo wants to stay alive," Mojo said, pushing away Ms. Bellum's hands. Ms. Bellum was dismayed. "You need to tell me," Ms. Bellum said angrily, tiring of Mojo's refusal to provide information. He was implacable. "No."

Grimly, Ms. Bellum sheathed her nine millimeter pistol from her holster. Mojo grew alarmed at the sight of her weapon. _Is she going to_ _shoot me, _he thought, fumbling for the side door handle. He really wanted to leave if she was going to shoot him up. However, Ms. Bellum did something completely different.

Ms. Bellum rolled down the car door window. Agitated, Mojo watched Ms. Bellum prop her gun on the door. What in Kami's name was she doing? Mojo followed Ms. Bellum's gaze to a donut shop.

Inside the donut shop Mike Brikowski was sitting on the bathroom toilet. He was the only person in the shop besides the cashier. This place was where Mike spent a majority of his time since he got released on bail.

Mike released his brown waste into the toilet bowl. A fart erupted from Mike's anus. Smelling his own fart never particularly bothered Mike. Eating donuts, farting, complaining, and sleeping were Mike's chief activities that led him to being fired from the police force. Mike eyed the empty cardboard roller. The shop never stocked up on toilet paper. He wiped his hands on his hairy ass. Then, he hitched up his grey sweatpants.

Opening the stall door Mike came face to face with a mirror. A fat man that was a candidate for gastric bypass surgery squinted at him. Double chin layers protruded from underneath his chin. He didn't have much of a neck, small watery black eyes and a circle of gray hair lying messy on his balding head. The white tank shirt he wore was smeared with doughnut

frosting.

The bathroom was just as unpleasant as Mike. Flies buzzed around stalls. A fungus was growing in one of the sinks. No hand soap existed in the dispenser. The shop was too cheap for sanitizer.

Mike imagined himself as a fit, trim man for a moment. Shaking his head, he began rinsing his hands. His son who had bailed him out of jail begged him to undergo the gastric bypass surgery. What the younger Brikowski failed to realize was that Mike Brikowski only cared about donuts instead of building relationships with people. Donuts had given Mike Brikowski more emotional satisfaction than his wife and son ever could. Mike's family watched Mike fall apart from being the capable cop he once was. His spiral downward resulted in his wife leaving him and his son was an adult enabling his father's obsessive eating.

Mike turned off the faucet. With a grunt, Mike strolled out of the bathroom. That's when a bullet went through the glass window. The cashier promptly screamed and dove under the register. Shards of glass flew through the air. The wooden blinds dangled in splinters. The wind fan kept blowing in a circular motion. The bullet's journey ended in the donut shelf display. The shelf broke neatly in half, spilling donuts to the floor.

Mike leaned against a wall, struggling to regain his composure. The shop had been fired upon. _My sweet haven is gone_,he thought, scanning the wreckage before him. Finding his courage, Mike made his way through the debris to a telephone next to cash register.

Mike leaned down to see if the plastic cord was still plugged into an electric outlet. It was. Anxious, he dialed the number to the police department. A cool female voice answered, "To whom am I speaking?'' "Mike Brikowski," Mike stated mechanically.

The voice on the other end asked what Mike was calling for and where he was. "I'm at the _Crispy Donuts_ shop on Fifth Street," Mike explained, cradling the phone against his cheek. "Alright sir, help will be on the way," the voice reassured, giving Mike some consolation. The irony of Mike's situation did not fail to escape him. His savior was the military personnel he had avoided contact with. Most people knew the military personnel as the Townsville police force. Mike just thought of the Townsville police as cold unfeeling military personnel. He was fired by the police for trying to get rid of the Powerpuff Girls after all. The female voice continued speaking to Mike who was rethinking his personal label for the Townsville police force.

Elsewhere on Fifth Street_, _a chimpanzee was having heart palpitations in a Mercedes vehicle. The red headed woman next to the chimp was issuing commands into a walkie talkie.

She momentarily flipped the off button so Mojo would have her undivided attention. "Mojo, I'll tell my men that you used mind control on me to destroy the donut shop," she threatened, brandishing the gun in her free hand. "Wait, why?" Mojo demanded, backing up against his seat. "Tell me where Him's lair is and I won't say you did it," Ms. Bellum ordered, twisting her face in anguish.

Mojo contemplated Ms. Bellum's threat. _This gives her no pleasure_, Mojo thought, assessing Ms. Bellum's unflappable resolve. However, she was ready to carry out her threat if he did not agree to her terms. "I'll tell you," Mojo hissed, fury radiating from his surrender. "Thank you," Ms. Bellum said, opening communication into her walkie talkie once more.

Mojo waited uneasily for Ms. Bellum to bid the oncoming police officers ado. Mojo whispered the location of Him's lair into Ms. Bellum's ear so no one would hear. While Ms. Bellum drove, Mojo prayed to an unnamed God that Blossom might already be dead. _That way she will be spared any pain, _Mojo thought, bent over in agitation. Being dead was a kinder alternative to being Him's play toy. Not even Mojo could wish for his red headed nemesis to be Him's toy.

Author's Note: Happy New Year! There are grammatical errors in this chapter. The errors will never be fixed. Life happens and that takes up enough time as it is. Stay tune for the next update which will happen someday or some year.


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